


now I got you in my space

by elizaham8957



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Detectives, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Modern AU, One Night Stands, hot tubs, i guess there's a plot, jon is an awkward bean, smut and fluff and humor? is there a plot?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-04 02:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21189899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaham8957/pseuds/elizaham8957
Summary: Finally her destination is in sight, light reflecting off the water’s surface as she catches a glimpse through the manicured greenery. The cold air is starting to become too much, anticipation at sinking into the hot water flooding her system.Except. As she rounds the corner, she realizes— someone else is already in the hot tub.They both remain frozen for a moment, taking each other in. The air seems to have grown heavier, electricity crackling in the space between them. She can feel it dancing over her skin, tingling in anticipation, and as the man’s eyes glide over her, she can’t tell if the heat that floods her is from the steam curling off of the water or from his fiery gaze.Missandei’s suggestion immediately comes back to mind, and looking at the man in front of her, it’s hard to deny the pang of desire in her belly. Maybe hooking up with a handsome stranger at this wedding isn’t completely out of the realm of possibility for her yet.





	now I got you in my space

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheScarletGarden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheScarletGarden/gifts).

> So remember like TWO MONTHS AGO when I did a giveaway fic contest? Ultimate plot twist, I finally wrote it. Did this get away from me? of course. Is it longer than I thought it was going to be? obviously. Standard fic requirements, you know. Thank you all for being patient with me. 
> 
> Anyways when I DID do that fic giveaway on tumblr Scarlet won and gave me THE BEST PROMPT and I had WAY too much fun with it. This is partially inspired by Brooklyn 99, in which I mean any case referenced in here you bet your ass I took right from the show. The moodboard makes this look like a murder mystery, but I promise it's not, lol. 
> 
> Thank you bunches to Fer and Giulia for reading through this and assuring me it's not garbage and actually good enough to be posted. And thank you Scarlet for being super patient with me, haha. I hope this is worth the wait!!
> 
> Enjoy everyone!!

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/146793737@N07/48964422758/in/dateposted-public/)

It’s almost sad, she thinks, how much of this party she’s spent dreaming about leaving it. 

Not that Dany has anything against parties, really. But weddings are very seldom fun unless you can get drunk and dance with your friends, and tonight, she can really only do one of the above. 

Damn Missandei for having other plans already and not volunteering to trek up North with her for this.  _ Her  _ wedding to Grey last year had been loads of fun, the two of them and all their other friends dancing until well into the night, the pain in their feet forgotten by how much alcohol had been pumping through their systems. Dany takes another sip of champagne, wishing she were back there instead of here. This wedding had been lovely, and Gilly looks beautiful, her radiant smile never disappearing for a second throughout the day, but now she’s off with her bridesmaids and sisters, and the few other people Dany knows from work that made the journey up North to support their coworker have already disappeared. 

Perhaps that means it’s socially acceptable for  _ her  _ to disappear as well, she thinks. It’s not like she’s doing any good sitting over here by herself moping while the last of the guests dance on. And there had been that  _ glorious  _ looking hot tub out on the resort’s patio. 

Her phone lights up with a text from Missandei, asking how the party’s going, but Dany’s eyes fix on the time at the top of the screen instead. Nearly midnight. 

Yes, she is  _ definitely  _ leaving now. 

She finishes off her champagne in one swallow, tucking her phone back into her clutch before making her way towards the thinning crowd on the dance floor to tell Gilly goodbye. The bride is still as radiant as she was this morning at the ceremony, hugging Dany profusely and thanking her for coming. Dany smiles back, hoping that the relief at the prospect of leaving isn’t visible in her eyes.

It’s nothing against Gilly, really. But if given the choice between getting drunk by herself at a table in a function hall or sitting in a hot tub, she’s going with the latter. Gods know with her job, she needs all the relaxation she can get. 

Dany sighs in relief the moment she’s back in her hotel room— the function hall is part of the hotel, at least, so it hadn’t been a long journey. She toes off her shoes as she begins unwinding her braided updo, tying it off in a messy knot on top of her head instead and dumping the pins on the vanity. Her dress gets put back in her suitcase, swapped out instead for the tiny white bikini she’d thrown in as a precaution. 

And thank the gods she did, though she’ll probably need to wrap up in the hotel’s provided bathrobe for the walk down to the hot tub, as her bathing suit offers  _ very  _ little in terms of coverage. 

Bathing suit on and bathrobe cinched around her waist, Dany grabs one of the plush bath towels from the rack by the shower and tucks her phone and room key into her pocket. The lobby is almost empty when she reaches it, a few stragglers from the party heading back to their rooms the only occupants. She sighs as she walks to the door to the back of the hotel, wishing Missandei or someone else was here to keep her company. Or that she had just said she wouldn’t come to the wedding in the first place. Missandei had given her a look of amusement when she had complained to her about having to go up North by herself, clearly having little sympathy.  _ “It’s just one night, Dany,”  _ she had argued.  _ “And you need a break from work. Take some time to relax. Or just go find yourself a hot groomsmen to hook up with.”  _

She can’t help but laugh at the thought. Yes, it has been a while, and no, she would not be opposed to meaningless sex with one of the other guests, if the opportunity presented itself, but based on how tonight is going, it’s seeming more and more likely that her only source of relaxation will be the hot tub waiting for her. 

Even in early spring, it’s chilly in the North, and the wind makes goosebumps break out across her skin as she steps out onto the back veranda. The hot tub is right at the end of the patio, she thinks, tucked away at the beginning of the sprawling gardens of the hotel. She picks her way through the cushy patio furniture, past the gas firepits and sofas that lay abandoned, the only sound the distant bubbling of the jacuzzi jets, stars twinkling above. 

The North is pretty, she supposes. It’s cold and dreary most of the time, and she much prefers the sandy beaches of the Crownlands or the rocky bluffs of Dragonstone, but it does have its moments. 

Finally her destination is in sight, light reflecting off the water’s surface as she catches a glimpse through the manicured greenery. The cold air is starting to become too much, anticipation at sinking into the hot water flooding her system. 

Except. As she rounds the corner, she realizes— someone else is already in the hot tub. 

She stops dead as her eyes take in the man before her. He’s  _ unbelievably  _ attractive, with dark curls framing his beautiful face, a beard covering his sharp jawline, thick eyelashes sweeping against his cheekbones. His eyes are slid closed, toned, muscular arms resting on the sides of the pool as he leans back, letting the hot water lap at his gorgeous torso, all smooth skin and perfect muscles. He must feel her watching him, because his eyes blink open, and he sits up straighter in surprise, plush lips falling open a little. 

They both remain frozen for a moment, taking each other in. The air seems to have grown heavier, electricity crackling in the space between them. She can feel it dancing over her skin, tingling in anticipation, and as the man’s eyes glide over her, she can’t tell if the heat that floods her is from the steam curling off of the water or from his fiery gaze. 

Missandei’s suggestion immediately comes back to mind, and looking at the man in front of her, it’s hard to deny the pang of desire in her belly. Maybe hooking up with a handsome stranger at this wedding isn’t  _ completely  _ out of the realm of possibility for her yet. 

“Do you mind if I join you?” Dany finally asks, proud of herself for keeping her voice level. He nods wordlessly, eyes practically fused to her as his hand sweeps across the water in greeting.

“Of course not,” he says, and a shiver runs through her again at the sound of his voice— deep and almost melodic, with a rough Northern accent.  _ Gods,  _ every part of this man is infuriatingly attractive. 

He seems to be equally captivated by her, though, she notes. Which she plans on using to her advantage. Without looking away from his dark eyes, she unties her robe, shrugging it off and draping it over one of the lounge chairs. The stranger’s eyes widen, sliding over her entire body languorously, his teeth biting at his plump bottom lip. She shivers as she steps closer to the hot tub, whether from the chilly air or his heated look, she’s not sure.

His gaze meets hers again as she descends into the hot tub, and Dany sighs with pleasure, the water feeling delicious against her body. She takes a seat on the bench opposite him, letting her eyes slide closed for just a moment, even though she can feel his heated gaze on her the whole time. 

Yes, she thinks, opening her eyes again, taking in the handsome stranger. If she’s fucking anyone tonight, it’s definitely him. 

“Were you at the wedding too?” she asks, the silence between them finally too stifling. The man shifts in his seat, leaning back a little more, the bubbling water lapping at the smooth planes of his chest. Dany finds she wants to trace the outlines of his muscles with her fingers, then her tongue. 

“Mm,” he nods. “For the groom. One of my best mates from school.” He pauses, dark eyes fixed on her. “What about you?” 

“For the bride,” she says. “I work with her. Or, well. I did, before she moved back up here last year.” 

“You’re from the south, then,” he says, a little hint of a smile pulling at his pretty mouth. It makes him all the more intriguing, she finds, desire once again flooding her body. 

“Yes,” she says, smiling coyly. “And you’re clearly not.” 

“You’re right, I’m not,” he agrees. There’s a moment of silence, before he’s leaning forward again. “I’m Jon, by the way.” 

“Dany,” she says, mirroring his motion. She doesn’t miss the way his eyes fall down hungrily to trace over the swell of her breasts, just above the water’s surface. 

“I’ve never been up North before,” she says, eyes skirting over the landscape, snowcapped mountains on the horizon and long rolling fields of muted green. “Not as cold as I imagined.” 

Jon laughs, his gaze drifting to the land as well. “You missed most of the cold,” he says. “Just startin’ to get warm now. A month ago, the ground was still covered in snow.” 

“Mmm,” Dany hums, eyes going back to him. His lips quirk up in a little grin, and Dany finds it immensely attractive, just the slightest hint of amusement on his face. 

“You like what you’ve seen up here so far?” he asks, and she raises an eyebrow, smirking at him. 

“Oh, yes,” she agrees. “Much handsomer than I ever could have imagined.” She knows she’s supposed to be talking about the countryside, but her eyes stay locked on his as she speaks. Based on the faint color that floods his cheeks and the way his eyes darken, she thinks he understands what she’s alluding to. 

They keep chatting, flirting shamelessly the whole time, and with every passing second, Dany finds herself more and more drawn to Jon. He’s interesting, and charming, though not in a way that’s off putting or smarmy. They laugh and joke, Dany tracing her manicured nails through the bubbly water, smiling irresistibly at him all the while. 

“So, Jon,” she says, tilting her head enticingly. Based on the way he’s looking at her, she’s fairly sure he wants her as badly as she does him. With how much she works at home, she’s not sure the next time she’ll be able to capitalize on such a situation. And especially with someone so handsome. 

And there is something about Jon that just pulls her in, makes her want him even more. Some connection, drawing her even closer. 

“The groom is one of your best friends, and yet here you are, just after midnight, in a hot tub instead of at a party,” she says. He raises an eyebrow at her, but there’s something predatory about it, as he watches her watch him. 

“Aye, he is,” Jon confirms. “But parties have never really been my scene. Sam knows that well enough.” He shrugs, looking down at the bubbling surface of the water, before glancing up to meet her gaze again through his dark lashes. And  _ gods,  _ she really wants him. 

“Besides,” he adds. “Was gettin’ a tad boring. All my mates were dancing with their girlfriends, or their wives.” 

“And it’s no fun being the odd one out,” Dany agrees. She surreptitiously looks to his left hand, resting on the side of the tub. She doesn’t see a ring. “Did you leave your wife or girlfriend at home?” she asks innocently, but this handsome stranger can see right through her facade, those pretty lips stretching wide into a smile that dazzles her and makes her even more hungry at the same time. 

She wants to see what it feels like to pull one of those plump lips between her teeth. Suckle on it as he thrusts inside of her. 

“Haven’t got one,” he says, eyes sparkling darkly, filled with lust. She’s sure her expression is much the same. “What about you? What’s a beautiful woman like you doin’ alone at a wedding?” 

“Afraid I haven’t a wife or girlfriend either,” she teases, smiling coquettishly. She tries not to let it show how very pleased she is that he had called her beautiful. He huffs in almost laughter, leaning back against the tiled wall. 

“No, I don’t have anyone of any sort,” she assures him, pushing off of the wall and standing. The heated water comes to the bottom of her ribs, leaving the exposed skin of her torso shivering in the cold night air. She can feel her nipples harden, straining against the thin fabric of her bikini top. She doesn’t miss the way Jon’s eyes travel there as well, water beading between her breasts, running down the rivulet they form. “Makes going to weddings sort of dreary, doesn’t it?” 

He inhales sharply as she takes a step closer to him, his dark eyes like fire. “I suppose,” he agrees. “But then I wouldn’t be meetin’ pretty strangers in the resort’s hot tub either.” 

She smiles, stepping even closer. She can see the way his breath rises sharply, the heat in his gaze. “And that would be a shame,” she says. “What an opportunity to waste.” 

Jon leans forward, closer still to her. She raises a brow at him, done with this teasing game they’re playing, dancing around each other. He’s so attractive it hurts her, her body aching to be filled, desire flooding her system even more the longer she stares at this man. She needs to know what he tastes like. What he feels like, pressed up against her, moving inside of her. 

“Aye,” he says, his tongue peeking out as he licks his lips in a way that makes her almost moan as she draws closer.

“Are you planning on wasting that opportunity, Jon?” she asks, heart pounding, blood roaring in her ears with how much she wants him. “Because I’m not.” 

“Come a little closer and you’ll find out,” he says, voice low, and a shiver runs up her spine, her desire like flames, burning up inside of her. She steps closer once again, coming to a stop just before his knees, meeting his dark, fiery eyes. He’s studying her like a wolf would its prey, and she’s almost amazed at how turned on it makes her feel. 

Before she can say anything else, he’s leaning forward through the water, grabbing her waist and pulling her into his lap, her legs straddling him. She goes willingly, folding her elbows onto his shoulders, leaning in so close that she can smell the remnants of his cologne, even over the glaringly strong scent of chlorine. His eyes are darker than the night sky, shining brighter than the pale moon hanging above. 

“Dany,” he murmurs, and her name on his lips, in that voice, with  _ that  _ much wanting in it— it’s enough to break her.

She’s not quite sure which one of them leans forwards first. All she knows is that Jon’s lips are on hers, and it’s pure and utter bliss. 

He kisses her like he’s a starved man, those plush lips suckling and nipping in a way that makes her toes curl. His hands are somehow everywhere, strong arms wrapped around her as he pulls her into him, her breasts pushed up against his hard chest. And his hands splay across her back, tangle in her hair, reach lower to palm at her arse, his fingers digging into her thigh as he pulls her closer, exploring her mouth with his tongue. 

She moans into his mouth, unable to help herself, her whole body on fire. She can feel his racing pulse as her hands travel up his neck, tangling in his curls, and they’re even silkier than they had looked. He groans as she tugs on them sharply, nipping at her bottom lip in the best type of retaliation. 

“Gods, Jon,” she pants, his lips breaking away from hers to trace down her neck, leaving a trail that burns hotter than the water they’re in. She relaxes her grip on his curls, instead running her fingers over the muscles of his chest, loving the way he reacts to her touch. His chest is like rock, solid and strong, and yet she still can’t help but grin at the way it heaves against her hand. He, too, is breathless with desire. 

But then his head dips lower, beard tickling her skin as he presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to the valley between her breasts, and she loses all cognizant thought. 

“Dany,” he says, voice so gravelly that she nearly whines with wanting. His teeth scrape at the edge of her bikini top, pulling it down ever so slightly, a shudder running through her at the heat of his tongue on her breast. “I’d really like to take this off of you.” 

_ Then do it,  _ she wants to respond, the words on her lips and ready to spill out. His hand creeps down the plane of her stomach underneath the water, his fingertips teasing the top of her bottoms. Her muscles jump, stomach swooping with pleasure at the feeling of his hand right  _ there,  _ slipping underneath the wet fabric to touch more sensitive skin. She’s so blinded with wanting, drunk on him, that for a moment, she forgets where they are. 

At a hotel. Full of other people they know. In a bloody hot tub, where anyone could find them. 

She needed Jon inside of her about ten minutes ago, but based on her body’s reaction to his touches, she’s not reasonably convinced she could keep quiet enough for them not to attract a crowd if they do this here.

“This may not be the most ideal location,” she manages to get out, voice breathy. Jon hums against her breast, pressing a hot kiss to her cleavage, before looking up at her. She’s caught in his eyes for a moment, that dark, endless brown almost erased completely by his pupils. 

She’s known him for maybe half an hour, and already, she knows what he’s asking without a single word passing his lips. 

_ Do you want this?  _

And  _ gods, yes,  _ she does. 

“My room or yours?” she says, and he grins, the corners of his mouth ticking up ever so slightly. 

“Mine’s in that building there,” he says, nodding towards the south side of the hotel, warm light spilling out from the door that leads to the elevators. 

“Mine’s on the other side, through the lobby,” she says. “Much too far. Yours it is.” 

He ducks up to kiss her one last time, his tongue licking into her mouth hungrily, before he pulls away. “Then let’s go.” 

The air is shockingly cold against her skin when she disentangles herself from Jon and climbs out of the hot tub, like pins pricking her all over. But Jon takes her robe and wraps her in it, his beard pricking her skin as he sucks at her neck before tying it closed, and the sensation is  _ much  _ more desirable. 

The ride up in the elevator is arguably the longest thirty seconds of Dany’s life. 

The moment it dings, Jon hurries out, grabbing her hand to drag her along with him, and she giggles, delighting at his grin as he turns towards her. Anticipation flutters in her stomach as he inserts his key card into the door, swinging it open and ushering her into his room. 

The second his door is closed, he has her pressed against it. 

She moans into his mouth as his tongue parts her lips again, her hands sliding down the planes of his stomach to unwrap the towel from his waist. His bathing suit is still warm from the hot water, but it’s nothing compared to the fire of his skin beneath her palms, the heat of his body as she drags her fingers up his abdomen, muscles rippling in response to her. He returns the favor, tugging the tie of her robe open, shoving it off her shoulders unceremoniously, before wrapping her up in his arms. 

“I thought you wanted this off,” she says, his lips trailing from her jaw down her throat, until his mouth is covering her breast again. He hums into the thin white fabric, the vibrations making her shudder, and her nipples are so taut that she’s positive he can see them through her bathing suit. 

“Aye, I did.” His hands surge up her back, fingers pulling at the strings of her suit, all the air leaving her lungs as he undoes the bow and the fabric goes slack. She reaches behind herself and undoes the tie at her neck, the top falling to the ground in between them. Jon pulls back a little, eyes going wide at the sight of her naked top, pupils so fat his irises seem black. 

“Gods, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmurs, and she’s frozen in his gaze, unable to move under his eyes. But then he moves back in, quicker than a wolf, one hand coming to knead her breast while his mouth closes over her other nipple, and her knees almost give out. 

_ “Jon,”  _ she whimpers, mouth falling open in pleasure as he nips and sucks at the stiff peak, the difference between the velvety heat of his tongue and the rough pads of his fingers almost too much. Her mind goes blank as he switches to her other breast, diligently attending to both with that  _ very  _ clever tongue of his. 

She’d like to see what that tongue can do in  _ other  _ places. 

It’s as if Jon read her mind, his hand leaving her breast and running down her back to grip the backs of her thighs, tugging her up into the air. She links her ankles at the small of his back, loving the feel of his hands against her arse, fingers digging possessively into the flesh. Dany can feel his hardening length against her as she kisses him dirtily, teeth clashing and tongue demanding, and she sinks her fingers into his hair again as she slowly grinds against him, heat rushing straight south at the delicious friction. If her bathing suit bottoms weren’t already wet, they’d be soaked by now. 

Jon walks them over to the bed, never once breaking the kiss, tongue exploring every inch of her mouth hungrily. She’s so caught up in the pleasure running through her that she barely even realizes he’s laid her down on top of the duvet, his body covering hers as his hands trace her curves. His fingers catch in the strings holding her bottoms together, dragging them down her legs and tossing them over his shoulder. She can feel her slick arousal on the inside of her thighs, her muscles trembling as his fingers ghost over her skin. Jon does something to her she’s never felt before, and her body aches, needing to feel him inside her. 

“Your turn,” she says, reaching for his pants, but he grabs her wrist, gently tugs her hand away. 

“Not yet,” he hums in her ear, teeth scraping her earlobe. “I want to taste you first.” 

She’s not quite sure what the noise that comes out of her mouth at those words is, but she does know that it’s not anything intelligible. 

Fire floods her veins as Jon kisses his way down her body, worshipping her like it’s what he was put on this planet to do. His fingers part her folds eagerly, teasing her entrance before he slips one inside of her. 

“Oh,” she moans, pressing her head back into the pillows as he moves inside of her. She’s known him for nearly no time at all _ ,  _ and he touches her like he already knows exactly what she wants. 

“Fucking  _ gorgeous,”  _ he murmurs, his beard scraping her thigh as he withdraws his hand, and then his mouth is upon her. 

She thinks she sees stars. 

Dany arches off the bed as he licks and sucks at her, one of his large hands coming up to grasp at her hips, keep her in place as he feasts. She’s so close already, whining as his tongue circles her clit, dips inside of her.  _ “Jaes toliot,”  _ she whines, toes curling into the sheets, and then she’s coming apart, vision going white as pleasure floods every inch of her body. 

She doesn’t even realize Jon has pulled away until he’s nosing at her cheek, surprisingly sweet considering the downright  _ sinful  _ way he just ate her out. “You’re fucking amazing at that,” she mumbles, and he chuckles, breath warm against her skin. Regaining some of her senses, she leans up, nipping at the base of his neck before soothing it with her tongue, and now it’s  _ his  _ turn to shudder. His skin is like velvet, heated and smooth beneath her hands, and she traces patterns down his back, loving the way his muscles ripple in response to her touch. 

“Remind me why you’re still wearing pants?” she whispers, and he laughs again, pulling back so he can tug them off. She props herself up on her elbows, watching as the rest of his gorgeous body is revealed to her— strong, muscular thighs, an arse that looks like it’s sculpted by the gods themselves, that tapered waist and taut abs. Her eyes hungrily follow the dark trail of hair from his navel to his straining cock, lust flooding her again, a fresh wave of arousal sweeping through her.

She sits up swiftly, seizing Jon’s length in her hands, stroking up and down the shaft as he shudders at her touch. “Let me return the favor,” she says, her teeth scraping the shell of his ear, her voice almost a purr. His eyes slam shut, his chest heaving as she twists her hand around him, a thrill running through her at his reaction. 

But then his eyes open, darker than the blackest midnight, and her mind goes blank. He looks at her like he’s a wolf eyeing its supper, and it’s the  _ hottest  _ thing she’s ever seen. 

“Later,” he says, voice guttural, before his hands are on her again, pushing her back into the mattress. She gasps as he grips her calf, hitching her leg up and out of the way, his length pressing against her soaked core. “First I want you to come again, while I’m inside you.” 

She almost comes just at his  _ words.  _

His lips seek hers out again in a bruising kiss, nipping at her mouth, tongue heated and wet as it slicks against her own. Dany’s hands scrabble for purchase on his back as he ruts against her, nails clawing at his shoulder muscles, probably leaving marks. 

“Condoms?” she manages to get out, and he nods, reaching over to the nightstand next to the bed, still sucking at her neck as he rummages around for something. He breaks away only to tear the packet open with his teeth, eyes dark and wanting in the dimly lit room. Dany basks in his gaze, leaning up to kiss him one more time before he pushes into her in one powerful stroke. 

She cries out as he fills her completely, stretching her wide and making her vision tunnel as she swears in Valyrian. Jon groans into her mouth, letting her adjust to the feeling of him inside her, before he withdraws and thrusts into her again, pushing her leg up so that her knee is practically at her shoulder. 

“You feel so fuckin’ good,” he says, voice hoarse as he pumps into her, picking up a steady rhythm. His hips snap against hers, Dany rising to meet him with every thrust, moaning at the delicious friction, the feeling of his body pressed against hers with nothing in between. 

“Yes, Jon,” she gasps, fingernails scraping down his back, hands grasping at his  _ perfect  _ arse. It’s like the artists of old sculpted his body from pure marble, leaving him without a single flaw. He leans down to kiss her dirtily, tongue licking inside her mouth in an instant, swallowing her words. 

She cries out as he thrusts into her again, and she’s so close to the edge, she feels like she’s about to fall. Just one more push, and she’ll be gone. “Need more,” she moans, his mouth attached to the side of her neck, sucking a mark into the skin there.  _ “Kostilus,” _ she begs. “I’m so close.” 

But Jon suddenly pulls away, slipping out of her, leaving her feeling empty and cold. She whines as he scoots back on the bed, rising to his knees. “C’mere,” he mutters, voice so low that it sends shivers down her spine, and he grabs her hand, yanking her to her knees as well, turning her around so that her back is flush against his front. She can feel his hard length against the cleft of her arse, and his hand slips down, teasing her clit before he nudges her legs wider, guiding himself back into her with one hard thrust. 

“Fucking hells,” she moans, leaning back into Jon, panting as he fucks her with abandon, her release so close. His hands are everywhere— grasping at her hips as he bucks against her, seizing her breast and squeezing, playing with the sensitive peak, roaming over her stomach and between her legs, finding her bud, rubbing at it in a way that makes her cry out with pleasure. 

“Gods, that’s it, Dany,” he hisses in her ear, arms locking around her like a vice, and her body is on fire, surrounded by him, consumed by him. His beard scrapes against her skin as he presses his cheek to her, so close that she doesn’t even know where he ends and she begins. It’s the  _ best  _ feeling ever, her hands sinking into his hair, and she wails again as he presses hot, wet kisses to her shoulder, the sounds she makes doing little to mask the lewd noises of their coupling. 

No one’s ever made her feel this way before in her  _ life.  _

“Jon, I’m gonna—” she whimpers, giving into his touch, her vision beginning to tunnel, her release  _ so  _ close. 

“Good,” he says, voice just as strained. He’s close as well, she can tell. “C’mon, Dany, come for me.” He turns her head so he can kiss her again, just as his fingers flick at her clit again, and it’s enough to push her over the edge, stars dancing in front of her eyes yet again as she comes undone for the second time with a whine. 

Jon groans, pumping into her a few more times, her channel clenching tightly around his length as he too finds his release. Her chest heaves as she reaches back to stroke his sweaty skin, not wanting to be separated from him for a single moment as he comes down from his high. 

“Dany,” he finally pants, voice nearly broken, and she smiles, leaning back into him. He slips his softening cock out of her, and immediately she misses the feel of him inside of her, something panging in her chest. 

It doesn’t make sense, really, to feel so connected to someone she met hours ago, who she barely even knows. But she  _ does  _ know that that was the best sex she’s had in her entire life, without a shadow of a doubt. 

Jon turns her around in his arms, leaning in to kiss her again, less hungry this time. She grins against his lips as he wraps his arms around her waist, flopping down onto the pillows and pulling her with him. He nuzzles into her hair once they’re both lying there, pressing a kiss to her forehead sweetly before he disentangles himself from her, padding to the bathroom to dispose of the condom. 

He returns a moment later with a wet cloth, handing it to her so she can clean herself up as he sits down next to her, and for the first time all night, he looks almost hesitant. 

“Did you want to stay here tonight?” Jon asks, those beautiful eyes finding hers in the dark, and they steal her breath away for a moment. She can hear the hope in his voice, even if he’s trying to hide it. 

“I have an ungodly early flight tomorrow morning,” she admits, grimacing a little. She knows she probably should leave. But there’s a part of her that’s longing to stay, her heart twisting a little at the thought of leaving now. 

Sure, Jon is gorgeous beyond all belief, and he fucks her like their bodies were made for one another, but she also feels a connection to him that she can’t explain. Something she thinks may go deeper than sex. 

But there’s no time for that. He lives up here, and she in the south. After tonight, they’ll never see each other again. So she’ll cherish her remaining time here, and then remember him as the best impulse decision she ever made. 

“Might as well spend the time before it wisely, don’t you think?” she asks, tilting her head a little, and Jon smiles as he leans in to kiss her once again, pressing her down into the mattress and settling his body above hers again. 

Dany grins against her lips, arms looping around him once again. She can sleep on the plane ride home, after all. 

***

_ “Dany.”  _

Dany looks up from the paperwork covering her desk, meeting Missandei’s impatient gaze. “Hmm?” she hums, blinking at her friend. “Sorry, what did you say?” 

Missandei just rolls her eyes good naturedly. “I said, have you gone completely brain dead yet from studying all those old case files?” 

Dany huffs in laughter. “No, not at all. These are interesting, actually. Though I’m not sure they’re much help for our current case.” 

Missandei gives her a pointed look. “I still think you’re deflecting.” 

“Deflecting from what?” Dany demands, brow furrowing. 

“Oh, come on,” Missandei says, leaning in closer to Dany’s desk, lowering her voice a bit. “You’re not nervous at  _ all  _ to get a new partner?” 

Dany shrugs. She’s truly not. Everyone else in the precinct seems to be making a much larger deal about it than her. “No,” she says. “It’s helpful to have someone else to talk with while working on a case. And if I was able to whip Hizdahr into shape, I have a feeling I can deal with anyone they throw at me.” 

Missandei sighs. “I wish I had your confidence,” she admits. “I’d be a nervous wreck if I had to get a new partner.” 

“That’s because you’ve been spoiled working with Margaery the past few years, Dei,” Dany says pointedly, to which Missandei can only shrug in defeat. Her friend looks like she’s about to open her mouth and say something else, but the sound of shoes against the tile floor approaching their cluster of desks is enough to quiet her. 

“Detectives,” Dany hears Jorah say, glancing up briefly from her paperwork to meet her captain’s eyes. 

“Morning, Captain Mormont,” Missandei says, smiling warmly. 

“Good morning, Missandei,” Jorah returns. “Daenerys, I wanted to introduce you to your new partner.” Dany looks up again, putting down the old case file she’d been poring over. Jorah steps aside, revealing a young man lurking right behind him, hands shoved into the pockets of his dark pants. “This is Detective Jon Snow, from the Winterfell PD. Jon, this is Detective Daenerys Targaryen, your new partner.” 

Dany knows she should say something, probably. But she can’t do anything but stare, her mouth parted in surprise, heart suddenly racing in her chest. Her new partner doesn’t say anything either, his plush lips falling slightly open as he stares at her, eyes wide. 

_ Jon Snow  _ just so happens to be  _ her  _ Jon, from Gilly’s wedding. 

He looks a little different— his hair is longer now, the front half tied back from his face, beard a little thicker. But those _ eyes—  _ gods, those eyes are exactly the same as the ones she sees in her dreams every now and then. Her gaze skates over him, taking him in again after all these months, heart quickening in her chest as she inevitably thinks back to the night they’d spent together. 

_ And the glorious way he’d fucked me,  _ her traitorous brain reminds her.

She realizes, finally, that Missandei and Jorah are staring at them both, baffled by their reaction to one another. Dany quickly springs to her feet, smoothing down her skirt as she offers her hand for Jon to shake. “So nice to meet you,” she says, plastering a false smile on her face, heart still beating rapidly. Jon’s brow furrows a little in confusion, but he plays along, taking her hand and shaking it. 

“You as well,” he says, and  _ gods,  _ that voice. It’s been seven months, and it still sends a shiver through her body, making her think of it growling in her ear in pleasure, how her heart had raced and her panties had grown wet just at the sound. 

Jon’s looking at her like he’s having  _ very  _ similar thoughts, and Dany tries to school her expression into something more neutral. She’d really like to  _ not  _ have to explain to her boss about how she hooked up with Jon at a wedding and consequently had a night full of the best sex of her life. 

“Come on, Jon, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the precinct,” Jorah says, and Dany tries not to sigh in relief as their captain leads her new partner away. The moment they leave, Missandei is looking at her pointedly once again, her perfect brows arched suspiciously. 

“Uh, Dany? Want to tell me what that was about?” 

“What do you mean?” Dany says, playing dumb, but she should know by now that Missandei can see right through that. 

“Oh, please,” Missandei says, giving her a look. “Jon’s hot, but not so hot to warrant  _ that  _ amount of sexual tension between you two while in front of our  _ captain.  _ It looked like you had been electrocuted, for the sake of the gods.” 

Dany laughs weakly, heart still racing as she returns to her paperwork. She can hear her best friend sigh in aggravation, before Missandei is standing, reaching over to physically pull Dany from her chair, dragging her behind her through the bullpen. 

“Hey!” Dany argues, but Missandei doesn’t give up, leading them to the dusty records room. She shuts the door behind them, locking it quickly before turning to face Dany, arching an eyebrow and crossing her arms. 

“Alright, spill,” Missandei says, looking at Dany pointedly. She sighs, admitting defeat. Dei always manages to wear her down somehow.

“You remember Gilly’s wedding I went to?” Dany asks, and Missandei looks even more confused. 

“Yes, vaguely,” she says. “Wasn’t that six months ago?” 

“Seven,” Dany corrects. “Anyways. I told you about the man I hooked up with.” 

“Mmm, you did,” Missandei says, grinning like the cat who got the canary. “I believe you claimed it was the best sex of your life, and thanked me profusely for telling you to go get it while up North in the first place.” 

“Sure,” Dany says, rolling her eyes. “That’s not the important part.” 

“What  _ is  _ the important part?” Missandei says. Dany squeezes her eyes shut, trying  _ very  _ hard not to get trapped in memories of that night with Jon. 

_ “Jon  _ is that man,” she says, and Missandei’s jaw drops. 

“Oh my gods,” she gasps. “You mean, your  _ new partner  _ Jon is the same man who you fucked at a wedding before you took off in the early hours of the morning without even saying goodbye?” 

“I said goodbye,” Dany grumbles. Sure, her departure at nearly five in the morning had been rushed and uneventful, but she had at least said goodbye. They hadn’t exchanged contact information or anything— it was just too long distance, and a one night stand. It never could have worked. But she had thanked Jon before she slipped out of his room, scurrying back to hers still wrapped in her robe from the hot tub. 

“What am I supposed to do?” Dany practically wails, turning to Missandei. Her friend is trying to bite back a laugh, she can tell. 

“Well, you have to work with him. No choice there,” she says. “You have two options, really. Either talk to him, see if you can sort it all out, or pretend that it never happened and move on with your lives.” 

“Those both seem like shit options,” Dany laments. Still, it’s not like there’s much else she can do. “But fine. I guess I’ll talk to Jon about it.” 

“There you go,” Missandei says, patting her arm supportively. “And you know if you need anything, I’m always here for you.” 

“Thanks, Dei,” Dany says, her friend already reaching for the lock on the door. She follows Missandei back out to their desks, taking her seat again, returning to her case files. 

Even if Jon Snow is now going to be a permanent fixture of her life, that doesn’t mean she’s going to be distracted from her work. 

***

Discussing that night with Jon proves to be much easier said than done. 

It’s  _ awkward,  _ is the problem. The whole point of a one night stand is that you’re never really supposed to see the person again. And then all of a sudden, Dany’s being forced to  _ work  _ with him every day, trying the whole time desperately not let memories from that night cloud her thoughts. 

She fails miserably on that account. Every time she sees him, all she can think about is that night. And thinking about talking through it with him just makes her feel more awkward, to the point where half the time she just chickens out and ducks away anytime she’s near him. 

The first week is the absolute worst. They’re hardly able to  _ look  _ at each other without the tension growing so palpable that others notice. Jon stutters partially coherent thoughts at her anytime they’re forced to work alone, always looking nervous and on edge. She bumps into him alone in the breakroom one day, and he looks so shaken that he almost dumps his cup of coffee on her. She opens her mouth to tell him good morning, and he disappears with a muttered “morning, Daenerys,” ears turning scarlet as he flees from the room, leaving her gawking after him like a fool before she can even get a word out. Any time she finally works up the courage to broach the topic with him, he immediately changes the subject, clearing his throat awkwardly or flushing bright red. If it weren’t so annoying it would be  _ hilarious  _ how embarrassed he is by it, considering all the things he did to her that night— the first time and all the times afterwards. So the weeks pass, and Dany’s attempts to discuss that night grow more and more futile. 

Maybe ignoring it ever happened will be easier, she supposes. 

Dany knows, for the record, that she’s acting just as strangely as Jon. Margaery and Grey give her weird looks whenever the two of them engage in stilted conversation in the debriefing room, and she keeps finding herself  _ staring  _ at him, making her cheeks flush when he turns and almost catches her. She’s not quite sure when she became the sort of person who pines after someone she had a one night stand with, but apparently being forced to work with said man had transformed her. He’ll offer her a case file or hand over a pen or something, and all she can think of is the way those hands had caressed her body. She’ll see him smile at someone, and she remembers the way he’d looked as they’d flirted in that hot tub. She’ll watch him pore over a case, run a hand over his beard in contemplation, and she can’t do anything but remember the way his facial hair had felt scraping up against the inside of her thighs as he went down on her. 

He starts calling her Daenerys, she notices. It does nothing to erase the memories of him growling  _ Dany  _ wantonly in her ear as he fucked her again and again in his hotel bed. 

Three weeks in, Jorah calls her into his office, giving her an inquisitive look as he nods for her to sit down. “I was wondering how it was going with you and Jon,” he says, and Dany’s heart skips a beat. 

“What do you mean, sir?” she asks, tilting her head like she has no clue what he’s referring to. Jorah gives her a look— he’s been her captain too long, and he knows her too well. 

“It seems like he’s getting on well with everyone in the precinct,” Jorah says. “But I can’t help but notice that the interactions between the two of you seem— awkward.” 

Dany forces a little smile onto her face, laughing falsely. She hopes that Jorah can’t see through her, because she would really enjoy  _ not  _ having to explain that the cause of the awkwardness between them is that she can’t forget how good it had felt when Jon had fucked her senseless for the better part of a night. 

“It’s just hard, sir, getting accustomed to a new partner,” she admits. “Figuring out how we fit— work together, I mean.” She winces at her words, hoping Jorah doesn’t see the blush rise in her cheeks. She is already  _ intimately  _ familiar with how the two of them fit together. 

“Alright,” Jorah says. “He’s a good detective. His captain in the Winterfell PD spoke very highly of him. And I think the two of you would really benefit from working together.” 

“Of course,” Dany says, smiling again, hoping her captain can’t see how it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure we’ll be up to speed in no time.” 

After that, she decides it’s best they just ignore it and try to move on with their lives. Not that there really seems to be a different choice. 

_ It’s fine,  _ she tells herself as she puts her lunch in the breakroom fridge.  _ You just had amazing sex with him one (four) times. That doesn’t mean you can’t have a good working relationship.  _

Jon comes in right after her, holding his lunch in one hand, glancing at her furtively. “There’s a spot right here,” she says, moving aside so he can get to the fridge. 

“Thanks,” he says, giving her a quick smile, the warmth of it not quite reaching his eyes. He hastens to store his lunch, turning to run from the room, and Dany sees her chance.

If they’re ever going to be able to work together, they have to stop dancing around each other like they’re in a field of landmines. 

“Jon,” she says, and he freezes, turning back to her with an expression that suggests he might be being tortured. His ears are scarlet again, and he shoves his hands in his pockets, meeting her eyes apprehensively. 

“I have a case from a little while ago that I’ve been stuck on,” she says, and his shoulders relax, some of the tension disappearing from his body. She tries not to track the movement of his muscles with her eyes, or think back to how it had felt to rake her nails down them. “Captain Mormont told me you’d worked something similar in Winterfell, and I was wondering, if you have some time today, if you’d mind looking over it with me?” She shrugs, her heart beating a little too quickly. “I don’t know, maybe you’ll spot something I missed.” 

“Of course,” he says. “I’d be happy to help, Dany.” This time, when he smiles, it reaches his eyes. 

It gets better, she supposes. Being partners means they’re forced to work together, to grow accustomed to being in each others’ spaces and learning how the other thinks. As the weeks go by, slowly, tensions start to ease, and Dany thinks she might even consider her and Jon friends now. 

Well. Friends may be too strong. Acquaintances, though, she is fairly certain fits them. 

Jorah is right— they do work well together. Jon has a different approach to problem solving than Dany, and when they look over cases together, they nearly always spot something the other hadn’t thought of. They’re lethal together in the interrogation room— while Dany is a master of using her anger to get perps to talk, Jon is stoic and silent in a way that makes it seem as if he’s never rattled. Their rate of solving cases goes up, much to Jorah’s delight. And the two of them can manage to be in a room together for a few hours without unbearably awkward silences or ardently avoiding making eye contact. 

The problem is, almost ironically, that the more time passes, the  _ more  _ Dany thinks about that night. 

She thinks she’s gone back to the way Jon touched her and kissed her in the month or so since they became partners more times that she ever did in the seven months after the wedding. She tries  _ not  _ to, but half the time she feels like she’s waking up from a dream with his name on her lips, the memory of his touch making her shiver. His lips twitch up into a snarl in the interrogation room once, when a perp is giving them a distinctively hard time, and Dany’s knees almost give out. 

“Girl,” Missandei whispers at her, arching an eyebrow in amusement as she collapses back at her desk. Margaery had just made a throwaway reference to a hot tub in the briefing room, and she and Jon had both turned so red that it’s a miracle no one else had called them on it. 

“I know,” she groans, burying her head in her hands. “I couldn’t even help it. Marge said one word and it’s like I was transported back there.” 

“I’d be willing to bet the amount of sexual tension in that room broke records,” Missandei says. “I thought it was getting better between you two?” 

“I don’t know,” Dany says, pouting a little at her friend. “I guess it has. Work wise, we can make it through a conversation without it becoming ridiculously awkward. But sometimes…” 

The problem is, she thinks, is that when Jon was just some one night stand who made her feel good and who she knew nothing about, it was easy to shut him away in a little corner of her mind. But now, after working with him for so many weeks, she’s beginning to really  _ know  _ him. She knows that he goes over to his brother and sister in law’s place every Thursday for dinner, and that he dotes on his nephew constantly. She knows he has a dog named Ghost who he loves more than anything, and who is possibly the cutest thing she’s ever seen. She knows how kind he is to everyone, how dedicated and hardworking he is, how humble he is about his solved cases. And knowing him just makes her  _ like  _ him even more. It’s hard for her heart not to speed up when he huffs in laughter at Podrick’s jokes, or when one of those half smiles of his stretches across his face, making his eyes shine brighter than the sun. She’ll catch him looking at her, and the way his cheeks flush when she meets his gaze is enough to send her heart into overdrive, racing frantically in her chest with indecorous amounts of  _ hope.  _

She had wanted to forget about the possibility of anything between her and Jon, and all of a sudden, it’s all she can think about. 

“Oh, love,” Missandei says, her voice full of sympathy. “You went and traded in your desires for actual  _ feelings,  _ didn’t you?” 

She doesn’t say anything back to that. Somehow, it feels like admitting to it will make it more true. 

***

Almost three months after she and Jon start working together, they get a break in their case. 

It’s a big case. An  _ important  _ case. It could lead to the takedown of a notorious Pentoshi drug ring that Dany’s been chasing for years, never able to pin down. But now they have a tip about a drop place, and if they have evidence of certain people going to said drop place, it could change everything. 

However. In order to get said proof, the drop place has to be staked out. 

Dany can do stakeouts. She can lie in wait like a cat, ready to pounce at the opportune moment and trap her victim underneath her claws. But this stakeout— well, this one is different. 

This one is eight days long in an old hotel across the street. And this one is with  _ Jon.  _

“I don’t think I can do this,” she whispers to Missandei after Jorah briefs them. “I genuinely don’t think I’ll make it through eight days alone in a room with him.”

“I don’t think you’ll make it either,” Missandei agrees. “The sexual tension will be enough to smother you both.” Dany just drops her forehead to her desk at that, groaning in despair. 

They arrive at the stakeout spot a few days later, a duffel bag packed for each of them, all the equipment they’ll need already delivered to the room the day prior. It’s  _ small—  _ a tiny kitchenette, an adjoined bathroom, and one large room with two double beds. 

_ Well,  _ Dany thinks,  _ at least we don’t have to share one of those.  _

“I hope the KLDP at least got a good price for the week,” Dany says, attempting a casual smile in Jon’s direction. He grins briefly, looking around. “Looks like the sort of place that probably runs many discounts.” 

“Aye,” he says, running a hand over the duvet. “It’s not quite as nice as the last hotel I—” he stops abruptly, cheeks reddening, eyes turning away from hers. Dany looks down as well, trying  _ not  _ to let memories of the last hotel they’d both been in invade her mind. The less she thinks about that time while they’re here, the better.

They make quiet, casual conversation as they set up all the equipment, but Dany can feel the tension in the air between them, crackling like electricity. Jon’s answers have grown terse and short, and he’s back to that broody, off putting way he’d acted around her for the first few weeks they’d been partners, barely able to look her in the eye. She doesn’t blame him. She knows that he’s probably stuck in his memories as well— because try as she might, she  _ cannot  _ force them out of her mind. The way he’d touched her. The feeling of his lips upon hers. How he’d held her up against his body so tightly as he’d thrusted into her, making her vision go white with pleasure. 

_ Stop it,  _ she snaps at herself.  _ That’s not helping.  _

The longer they’re together, the more awkward it gets. 

They barely talk the first two days. Any time Dany tries to start a conversation, it dies almost immediately, Jon casting his eyes down and avoiding her gaze. She gives up after a certain point, the both of them taking their shifts on watch in almost silence. 

Even if they don’t talk, Dany can still feel the tension in the air. It’s like a living, breathing thing, impossible to ignore. And the worst part is that  _ she  _ keeps making it worse, she knows— even if she’s trying to do just the opposite. But Jon is so  _ close  _ to her all the time, and she can’t stop watching him, thinking about him. And not just the sex— although that’s a frontrunner in her mind. No, she can’t stop thinking of the way he smiles, the way he’ll make her laugh sometimes, the way his eyes light up brighter than gold when they finally solve a case. The way he interrogates people so cleverly that they don’t even realize they’re confessing until it’s too late. The way he listens to her and heeds her advice and follows her lead, and how she’ll do the same for him. 

_ Gods,  _ if there weren’t all these tangled feelings between them, they would really be the best partners in the King’s Landing. 

But there  _ are  _ these feelings, and she doesn’t know how to deal with them. She texts Missandei on the third night, reporting back with how terribly it’s been going, both on the ‘catching the criminal’ and the ‘interacting with Jon’ front. She’s not quite sure when she stopped lusting after Jon and started loving him, but it’s rubbish denying it any longer. 

And then Jon steps out of the bathroom from his shower, sweatpants hung low on his hips and no shirt on, curls wet and hanging around his face, and she almost  _ faints.  _

“Sorry,” he mutters, walking to his suitcase. “Forgot my shirt.” 

“It’s fine,” she squeaks, trying to avert her eyes, but  _ gods,  _ his abs are somehow even nicer than she remembers. And then he bends over to grab an article of clothing from his bag, and she has to bite back a moan. 

Ten months now, she’s been wondering how a human being could have such a perfect arse. She still doesn’t have an answer. 

She lies awake in bed that night while Jon is on shift, completely unable to sleep, and decides something has to be done. 

They’re trapped in a room together now. Let him try to run from her discussing how to work past what happened between them. 

“Jon,” she starts the next afternoon, the awkward silence absolutely stifling. He hums in acknowledgement, looking up from his laptop where he’s sitting on the other bed. 

“I was wondering,” Dany says, and she can feel her cheeks heating already. “I— could we maybe talk about what happened in the North?” 

He immediately turns scarlet, eyes fixed on his computer screen, refusing to meet her gaze. “What d’you mean?” he asks, voice low, and it sends a shiver of wanting through her, unbidden. 

“I mean… I know you know how awkward it’s been between us,” she says, exhaling, her sight casting down. She picks a thread off the old duvet covering her bed, steeling herself to make it through this conversation. Because she can’t go on like this for much longer. 

“And you think goin’ through it all again will make it  _ less  _ awkward?” he says, glancing up at her furtively. His eyes are like molten, and it makes her catch her breath.

“No,” she huffs. “I just… I want us to be able to work together, Jon,” she says with an exhale. “So could we maybe talk about how to… put it behind us, or something?” 

At that, he looks up sharply, lips twisting into almost a frown. “Is that what you want?” he asks, and she exhales.  _ No,  _ her traitorous heart says. What she really wants is to be with him.  _ Really  _ be with him, not just as a one night stand. 

“I just think it would be easier,” she says. “We can’t  _ truly  _ work well together until we get past the awkwardness.” She sighs, looking down. “If I’d known back then, that we would be partners… I wouldn’t have…” she trails off, not sure what else to say. It’s a lie, she knows. She’s still fairly sure that she would have followed through on her desires that night even if she had known what was to come for them. She’s still never felt that way about  _ anyone  _ like she did for Jon that one perfect night. 

“You wouldn’t have fucked me, is that what you mean?” he says, his voice suddenly icy. Dany looks up from the duvet, startled, meeting his eyes. His are as cold as steel. 

“No, that’s not…” she starts, but her voice loses its power once again. Jon shakes his head, looking down at his lap again. 

“It’s fine, Dany. We’ll forget it.” He stands, putting his laptop back on the bed with a little more force than necessary, stalking over to the window. She just gapes at him, the angry set of his jaw, the way his eyes have narrowed, completely baffled by his reaction. 

“Jon,” she says, brow furrowing as stands as well. “Why are you angry?” 

He huffs humorlessly. “I’m not angry.” 

“You  _ are  _ angry,” she retorts. “I know this is beyond uncomfortable, but I’m just looking out for our future, alright?” 

“Our  _ future?”  _ he demands, turning to face her. It’s strange, a part of her registers, to see that anger he uses on perps in the interrogation room turned on her. He laughs, though it’s not the same warm sound she’s grown used to hearing from across the bullpen these past few months. It’s cold, humorless. It almost sounds like his heart is breaking. 

“It’s fine, alright?” he repeats. “We met, we flirted, we hooked up. It didn’t mean anything. Is that what you want to hear?” he demands. 

Her heart squeezes, standing before him, watching as his chest rises and falls, his mouth a thin, hard line. Because it’s  _ not  _ what she wants to hear. Maybe three months ago it would have been, but not now. Now that she knows Jon. Now that the connection she’d felt, ever so briefly, that first night is actually something tangible. Something  _ real.  _ And seeing the pain in Jon’s eyes— maybe it’s real for him as well. 

“You know what, it’s not!” Dany snaps back. He blinks at her, some of the hard anger fading from his handsome face, replaced instead with confusion. “I don’t know. Maybe it would be easier to just forget it all. Just pretend it never happened. But it  _ did,  _ and it did mean something to me!” She freezes, a little astounded that she admitted that out loud. 

“What?” Jon says, but it’s not accusatory. It’s softer, gentler, in a way that makes her heart quicken. 

“It meant something to me,” she repeats, quieter this time. “I know that complicates things. But you’re my partner. I don’t want to lie to you.” She stands her ground, even though all she feels like doing is cowering, hiding what’s truly in her heart from him. 

“I felt something, that night,” she says. “I’ve never felt such a connection to someone before. And I’ve been trying to ignore it, all these months we’ve been paired together, and it’s made it worse, I think, so we need to figure out how to move past it all—” She breaks off her jumbled string of words, falling silent, because Jon isn’t standing there studying her anymore. Instead, he’s stalking towards her, determination in his eyes like she’s never seen. 

And then he has her in his arms, and his lips are on hers, and she thinks her heart might burst. 

It’s like her memories of that night months ago were in black and white, and now that she’s reminded of what it  _ truly  _ feels like to kiss Jon, the world is in vibrant color once again. His lips are insistent against hers, like he too is savoring the feeling of relearning how she tastes, his hands mapping her entire body, recommitting it to memory. 

“I felt it too,” he murmurs into her mouth, a hand sinking into her blonde locks. “I still feel it, Dany.” He smiles, eyes fluttering open, then closed again as he presses his forehead to hers. “There hasn’t been a day in the past three months where I haven't thought of that night.” 

She smiles then, heart beating so fast she thinks it could jump from her chest, before she kisses him again, winding her arms around his neck. She’s been dreaming of sinking her fingers into his silky curls again for weeks, and so she does. 

_ “This  _ is what I want,” she whispers into his kiss, and he sighs, kissing her deeper. She moans at the feeling of his teeth nipping at her lip, and then the whole world shifts, Jon leaning over to lift her into the air, her legs linking around his waist on instinct as his hands grab at her arse. 

His kiss grows more heated as he walks them across the room, her back hitting the hotel room’s wall as his tongue explores her mouth. She whines with wanting, reveling in the  _ delicious  _ way he kisses her, grinding her hips against his. He pulls away, panting, reaching for the hem of her shirt with one hand. Dany lets him pull it off of her gratefully, her own fingers skimming underneath his t shirt, feeling the hard muscles flex beneath her palm, the warmth of his skin seeping into her and making her heart feel like it’s bursting with light. 

“Jon,” she mumbles, partially distracted by the way he’s kissing his way down her chest, tongue laving at her cleavage. 

“Mmm,” he murmurs against her breast, and the deep vibration of his voice, husky with want, is enough to soak her panties. 

“Bed, now,” she orders, and he kisses her again, fierce and full of want, before he walks them back across the room, depositing her on the empty bed. 

The rest of their clothes are quickly discarded, and as Jon kisses his way down her body, she wonders  _ how  _ she ever thought she could live without this in her life. The way he lights her up, makes her feel like nothing ever has before. The surety of his touches, the heat of his kisses. The way his beautiful eyes shine as he meets hers, pushing into her with one smooth stroke. 

As he moves inside her, it feels like she’s been lost and then found all over again. 

Jon pulls her into his chest after they’ve both come undone, smoothing her hair back as she noses at his jaw dazedly. It hits her, then, how funny it is that  _ this  _ is where they finally came back together, giggling as she tucks her head into the crook of his neck. 

“What?” Jon asks, a hint of amusement in his voice as well, still a little scratchy from too much use. 

“We really can’t be left alone in hotels, can we?” she says, and then he truly laughs, his chest rumbling with it as he pulls her in closer. 

“Aye, we can’t,” he says, pressing a kiss to her crown. She relaxes in his arms, his warmth comforting and familiar. 

“This time, though,” Jon says, and she can hear the  _ hope  _ in his voice, shiny and new. “I get to see you again afterwards.” 

“Yes,” she agrees, leaning up to meet his eyes. It takes her breath away, the way they shine at her. Like pure sunlight, bright and gold, she thinks. “For as long as you’d like.” 

_ For forever,  _ her heart adds, and this time, Dany thinks it might just be true. 


End file.
